Ignorance Isn't Bliss
by Kyoko Kasshu Minamino
Summary: The sequel to Band Aids. They've been ignoring the signs for weeks. One of them was bound to break. Terry/Max. Lighthearted fluff.


A/N: This is a small sequel to "Band Aids", but you don't have to have read it to enjoy this. I wrote mostly because the Batman Beyond fanfiction around here has gotten rather poor. I don't intend to continue it either, just something sweet for the Ter/Max fans.

"So what'd you do then?"

"What else could I do? I couldn't exactly tell her the truth so I did the best I could."

"You lied."

"Yeah."

"And she threw her drink in your face?"

"Yeah."

"Geez, Ter, what'd you tell her?"

"I was studying with you."

Max's big brown eyes widened in both horror and shock, her grip loosening on the pencil clutched in her right hand. Terry's expression remained tired, not just from the gang fight he'd been in only ten minutes before but also from explaining the exhausting workings of his now ex-girlfriend. They were stretched out on Max's bed in her cramped little room somewhere around midnight. Max was copying notes from class because she had to visit her mother in the hospital earlier that day.

"Wait…you don't think she thinks we're…?"

Terry nodded wearily. "Oh yes she does. She walked out on me before I could explain, of course, so now I'm back to square one. **Single** square one."

There was silence for a second until Max smacked Terry in the back of the head. He yelped and rubbed the spot, confused.

"What was that for!"

"Thanks a lot, McGinnis, now she'll be mad at **me**!"

He scowled sourly. "Oh, yeah, what a tragedy for you. At least you didn't get strawberry soda to the eye."

Max rolled her eyes, throwing down the pencil and flopping onto her back. She palmed her face, sighing in deep frustration and trying to think of a way to fix things.

"We need to work on your array of excuses. Maybe next time you won't include **another girl** as an excuse for missing an anniversary."

"What next time?"

She dropped her hand to look him in the eyes. They were aimed straight at her and narrowed slightly, giving her the full effect of their pale blue hue. She'd seen that expression before but only when he was behind the cowl.

"Ter, what are you saying? That you guys are done for good?"

He guided his eyes back to the page of the notebook where his handwriting was scrawled, a mask of indifference sliding down over his features.

"How's your mom?"

She watched him for a moment and sighed again, knowing she would get nothing else from him at this point. "She's okay: she just got rear-ended on the highway. Couple of cuts, a bruise or two, but she's fine. She asked about you, though."

He lifted an eyebrow, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah. She saw you on TV a couple of times for Wayne Enterprises. She said when you become a celebrity, don't forget about us." By the end of the sentence, Max's smile had returned. Terry grinned, snorting comically.

"Yeah, I'll try to remember that."

She giggled suddenly. "Somehow, that makes me think of the first time you met my sister. Do you remember that?"

Terry's face scrunched up a little in thought. "Uh, yeah, I think so. Why?"

Max's smile widened into a wicked grin. "She thought you were some kind of underwear model."

Terry's mouth fell open. "She _what_?"

She laughed and rolled onto her stomach to face him. "What, have you never looked in a mirror before? Look at you: you've got the pouty lips, the dark hair that always flips back into place, the pale eyes, the muscular bod… You've got male model written all over you."

He scowled. "Hey, I resent that. I am way too masculine to be a male model. Don't they have to be gay or something?"

Max rolled her eyes. "That's just a stereotype, Ter."

"Fifty percent of all stereotypes are based on fact."

"You just made that up, didn't you?"

He smirked. "Maybe. And I don't think we're discussing the proper issue here: you think I'm hot, don't you?"

Max sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes again. "You wish."

Terry just grinned. "Oh, please. I've never heard another girl describe me like that. You actually want me to be a male model so you can fantasize about how my butt would look in Calvin Klein underwear."

She flicked him in the forehead. "You'd actually have to **have** a butt for that to happen."

"Ha, ha, very funny. Well, I think you've got enough butt for the both of us." He retorted, smacking the aforementioned body part with his notebook. Max growled at him and grabbed a pillow.

"You did **not** just hit me, McGinnis!" 

Terry arched an eyebrow at her. "Max, aren't we a little old for pillow fights?"

She grinned dangerously at him, pillow raised. "What's the matter, Guanoboy? Scared to get beat?"

"If I can take on Mad Stan, I can certainly kick your—OW!" He never got to finish the sentence because Max hit him in the face with her pillow. Finally giving in, he leapt towards the head of the mattress and grabbed her other pillow just in time to block another blow. They then proceeded to beat each other senseless for several minutes until Max got the upperhand and pinned his face beneath her pillow. Terry just lay there, defeated, and spoke with a very muffled voice.

"Alright, alright, you win! Are you just gonna suffocate me?"

"I might. I'll make you a deal."

He paused. "What kind of deal?"

"Let me see the Cave and I'll let you up." He fell silent for several tense seconds. Max's smile started to fade and curiosity set in so she lifted the pillow a few inches until she could see his face. He frowned back at her.

"Max, you know I can't do that."

She glared down at him, stubborn lines creating creases in her forehead. "Why not? You could just sneak me in on one of the nights he's at a meeting…"

Terry shook his head, starting to sit up. "It's not that, it's just…he doesn't want to get you any more involved than you already are."

"So he doesn't trust me?" She challenged, crossing her arms and dropping the pillow. Terry winced.

"Not entirely."

"Even though I've saved both your butts before?"

His lips started to form a scowl, but he begrudgingly nodded. Max let out a haggard sigh and threw up her hands.

"Men."

"Uh, Max?"

"What?"

"Could you get off me?" Max glanced down and realized she'd been sitting across his waist the entire time.

"Oh. Sorry."

Terry grinned. "Don't be." 

She smacked him in the arm and he let out a rather masculine chuckle, causing her cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. After she crawled off of him, Terry sat up all the way and glanced at the clock, wincing again as he realized it was half-past midnight. Max hopped off the bed and went to rummage through her clothes drawer for some pajamas.

"I'm gonna go change. Be right back."

Terry grunted in affirmation and watched her exit to go to the bathroom, his mind drifting. He'd seen what Max wore to bed a few times and somehow that got him to wondering if she owned any lingerie. He tried to picture her wearing some and then blushed only a few seconds later, shaking his head to clear it of the mental images. Max wasn't exactly the feminine type. If she'd ever had a boyfriend, he certainly didn't know about it. She never dressed to impress anyone except for that time she met him at Gotham Park Towers to stake out The Brain Trust. Even then, Max had confessed that the dress was her sister's anyway.

His thoughts retracted when she reemerged in a tank top and boyshorts, both of which were black and remarkably flattering for her full figure. It occurred to him that she should be able to wear stuff like that around him because they were just friends, but he knew better. Lately, he'd been thinking more and more about Max the Girl, not Max the Friend. 

Still, Terry mentally kicked himself to stop staring and instead plastered a grin on his lips.

"Nice jammies," he teased when she came to sit down on the bed. Max simply rolled her eyes and picked her notebook and pencil back up.

"Don't kid yourself. I don't dress up for anyone, especially not **you**."

Terry handed her his notebook to finish copying the notes. "You know, there's this river in Africa—OW!" 

He rubbed the spot where she'd hit him in the arm. Max certainly didn't hit like a girl, either. She snatched the notebook from him and set about scribbling things down where she'd left off. After a moment, though, she paused and cocked her head to the side.

"Terry, what's this word?"

He leaned over until their shoulders bumped, squinting at the page. "Uh…good question. I think that's where I started nodding off during the lecture."

Max rolled her eyes. "You need to start hitting up a Starbucks before you go to class or else you're gonna end up a Super senior."

He scowled. "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Robin."

Her brown eyes narrowed dangerously. "I told you not to call me that."

Terry just smirked. "Yeah? Well what are you gonna do about it? Start another pillow—"

The sentence got cut off because Max leaned forward and kissed him. Shocked, Terry froze against her remarkably soft lips until his natural reflexes kicked in and he started to kiss her back. By then, however, Max had gotten the gist of what she just did and broke away with a start. 

"Oh God, did I just do that?"

Terry's voice was very vacant when he answered her. "Yeah."

Max closed her eyes and palmed her forehead, swearing under her breath. "Shit. I…I'm sorry, it's just…I've been kind of on edge lately and us being this close isn't—"

"Max?"

"What?"

"Shut up." Before she could reply, Terry's hand had come up to the right side of her face to turn it towards his and his full lips were on hers again. She fought the urge to groan with the simple yet immense sensation of kissing and felt a shudder slip down her back as his tongue quickly parted her lips to deepen the kiss. As much as she was enjoying it, though, she knew better. Once again, Max pulled away.

"Ter, maybe we should think about this." She protested, pushing up on her hands so she was sitting instead of lying next to him. 

"You're my best friend! I shouldn't have even kissed you in the first place." 

Terry merely shook his head and sat up as well, regarding her seriously with those pale eyes of his.

"Don't do this, Max. You wouldn't have kissed me if you didn't have some kind of meaning behind it. So why won't you admit it to yourself?"

"Admit what?"

"That you like me. And that I like you. We've been ignoring it for about a month now and you know it." She bristled at his words, crossing her arms underneath her chest. 

"That doesn't make it any less wrong," she muttered, dropping her gaze to the floor. He sighed and scooted closer, touching her shoulders.

"It's not wrong. I'm not seeing Dana any more and you sure as hell aren't the Rebound Girl, okay? But if this is too fast for you, then I'll back off."

He paused for a moment. "And you'll have to stop wearing such sexy pajamas."

She slapped him in the arm on reflex, a grin stealing across her lips before she could stop it. He chuckled and brushed a kiss over her forehead. She started to let him pull away and thought better of herself, grabbing a handful of his shirt to tug him back down to her mouth.

"I hate the stinkin' forehead kiss," she mumbled against his lips, shuddering when his hands dropped down to the small of her back and pressed her into his warm body. 

"Yes ma'am," he muttered back once they broke apart, a little impressed by her aggressive behavior. Max closed his notebook and handed it to him, motioning for the door.

"Now beat it before we both do something we'll regret." Terry started to grin again and she swatted him with her own notebook, her cheeks flushing dark with a blush. He gathered his things and stuffed them into his backpack, standing.

"I…guess we'll talk about this tomorrow then." She gave him a very small nod and a shy smile. 

"Bye, Max."

"Bye, Ter."

He left. Max buried her face in one of her pillows and smiled so hard it made her cheeks burn.

FIN

A/N: Not even close to my best work, but dammit if there haven't been any good Terry/Max fics out lately. It makes me sad. 

Thanks for reading and please review! 

Kyoko


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